The dining hall was cavernous, lit by the warm flickering glow of a chandelier that hung like a jeweled crown above the long mahogany table. Accented with gold walls and tall mirrors reflected the opulence, but none of it soothed the storm building in my chest.
I stood at the entrance for a moment too long, my heels clicking against the marble as i forced myself forward to the table, It was set for two.
Vincenzo sat at the far end, dressed spotless in his three-piece suit.His hair as dark as midnight. His posture was relaxed, but the intensity in his cold blue eyes could freeze you with one look. It pinned me in place, dragging me forward, as if daring me to misstep.
"You're late," he said calmly.
"Am sorry," I replied, finding my seat carefully.
A server poured wine into my glass with practiced precision. I wrapped my fingers around the stem but didn't take a sip.
The room went silent causing an awkward tension between us
He watched me as I lifted my glass to my lips sliping feeling the expensive liquid down my throat. I pretended not to notice him.
"Are you always this quiet during meals?" Vincenzo asked finally, his voice slicing through the heavy air.
I looked up at him, meeting his gaze.
"Are you always this confrontational during dinner?"
"Touché." A slow smirk curved his lips.
The server returned, placing the first course in before us. I stared at the delicate arrangement on my plate. It looked exquisite but i had no appetite.
"You haven't asked why I rushed the contract," he said, idly swirling the wine in his glass.
I held his gaze steadily.
"You don't strike me as the type who waits for permission, do you?."
"You're not wrong," Vincenzo replied,his voice so calm that it made me shiver.
We ate in uneasy quiet, words used more for fencing than connection. Each sentence felt like a test, each glance a veiled threat or challenge. Still, I couldn't ignore the strange pull I felt in his presence like a flame too close to my skin.
Just as the meal was nearing its end, the doors to the dining hall opened again.
A familiar voice echoed, so casual and bright.
"I hope I'm not interrupting anything serious."
I turned sharply when I heard I familiar voice.
'Matteo?!'
He strode in like he belonged there, confidence in every step. Dressed in a fitted navy shirt with rolled-up sleeves and slacks that clung too perfectly, he looked more like a charming guest than an intruder.
'What is he doing here?....this is Vincenzo's mansion, right?' Looking around checking if I'm in a wrong place.
And Vincenzo… didn't look surprised at all.
My brow furrowed. "You..."
Matteo flashed that boyish grin. "Miss me already?"
'Uhn?' I almost rolled my eyes.
Vincenzo leaned back in his chair, watching the scene unfold quiely, his expression seemed amused about something.
My stomach dropped as I blinked, trying to connect the dots.
"You two are—"
"Cousin," Matteo confirmed easily, pouring himself a drink like it was his own home.
But apparently...he did.
My grip tightened around the edge of the table while my mind reeled. I had let my guard down around Matteo,not entirely but enough for him to be around me.
Had he known the whole time?
Vincenzo's eyes never left me, I couldn't tell if he was amused, testing me, or something more dangerous.
"You look pale," Matteo noted, concern flashing across his features.
I forced a breath. "I-I'm fine. Just...."
"Take your time to fill it in," Vincenzo said, lifting his glass.
I didn't drink because I feel my throat too tight at the moment. Matteo settled onto a chair across from me, entirely too at ease.
"Did she tell you how we met?" he asked Vincenzo with a playful edge.
He didn't answer. His attention still fixed on me, trying to see me through.
I pushed my chair back and stood up suddenly.
"Excuse me...Thank you for dinner," I said quickly, my voice sounding a bit crispy. " I'm tired."
"Running already?" He asked, tilting his head slightly.
"Rest isn't running."
Without saying another word, I turned and walked out, back straight and steps careful despite the chaos boiling inside me. As soon as I reached my room, I slammed the door shut and pressing my back against it.
I felt like a marionette which he held the strings and I hate it so much!
Because the worst part wasn't the control but it was the fact that I had no idea who was truly playing the game.